


Walls

by EllieCee



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Infidelity, Racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 18:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieCee/pseuds/EllieCee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn always felt worthless. Zouis friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walls

**Author's Note:**

> Contains lots of touchy subjects, so be warned. Lots of derogatory terms in there to portray racism. Hope I do not offend.

**“Zayn Malik Cheats on Perrie Edwards”**

**“Zayn Malik CHEATING SCANDAL”**

**“Zayn Malik is a SEX PREDATOR”**

Words, and thoughts, and light swirled around his head like a colony of bees. It’d been a day and a half since he last ate something, but he doesn’t care enough. The dark, cloudy feeling in his chest is thickening, and nothing, not even the comfort of sleep could lighten the load he felt.

_“How could you? You made me look like twat telling everyone I trusted you!”_

_“Pez, I’m sorr-“_

_“Don’t bother, I’m disgusted with you don’t touch me don’t talk to me, I loved you, you know?”_

_“Perrie…I-“_

_“Don’t talk to me Zayn, don’t.”_

His head aches from loss of sleep, his eyes dry from crying. His room smells of her; her perfume bottle still stands on their dresser, emitting her scent across the room. She’s pretty, even when she cries. His chest hurts, his body aches. _How could he?_

_“@zaynmalik you disgusting pig!”_

_“kill yourself @zaynmalik how dare you cheat”_

_“you are a disgusting piece of human being @zaynmalik”_

They were right. He is a disgusting piece of human being.

He shut the laptop. No more. No more.

 

* * *

 

_It was the first day of year six. He told his mum he didn’t want to go. He told her nobody liked him. He told her they all thought he was funny looking._

_“Zain,” she’d say, “You’ll be okay, baby.”_

_But he was never okay._

_“Paki!”_

_“Look it’s Zain the terrorist!”_

_“Why’d your mummy marry your daddy? Gross!”_

_“Dirty, nasty, Paki!”_

_Left and right they’d come. Like knives._

_One right through the back of his head._

_One right through his arm._

_One right through his foot._

_“Dirty Paki! You pig! I hope your family dies!”_

_And one right through his heart._

_His fist did the thinking. The next thing he saw was a bloody nose and the wrinkled face of a very angry headmaster. He pulled Zain by his collar and he sat in a dusty office for the rest of the day._

* * *

He wakes up to a beeping phone. The backlight hurts his eyes inside his dim room. He scrolls through the notifications. Ten messages from Modest. Several missed calls from Danny. Missed calls from Niall, Harry, Louis, and Liam. A missed call from Doniya. One voice message.

“Hey mate, it’s Louis. Are you okay? I hope you’re doing all right. You didn’t show up today. I’m really worried. Management is figuring out how they’ll deal with the press. You know I’m here for you, right? If you need a chat I’m a dial away. I’ll bring over some Pot Noodles if you’d like. I love you, all right?”

He closes his phone.

 

* * *

 

_His mother picked him up. A two-day suspension._

_“Baby, why?” she asked. He stayed silent._

_Because they’re allowed to tell me those things, he thought. But he didn’t say so._

_He sat in his room. His insides boiled like kettle; until his face felt warm and tears raced down his face. He saw himself on his dresser mirror. Swarthy skin and thick eyebrows. Why couldn’t he look like his mum?_

_Ugly, dirty Paki._

_Maybe it was true._

_His lid flew off. He raised his fist, and punched the wall in front of him. He left a dent. A hollow, dent in the faded green wallpaper._

_He heard a yelp._

_His knuckles were red._

_His mother came running up the stairs, her hair disheveled with worry. She saw his bleeding knuckles and bloodshot eyes. She ran in, frantic, and picked him up even though he was too big. She put him in her lap and kissed his head._

_“Zain, baby, don’t,” she said, her voice breaking, “Don’t hurt yourself baby.”_

_He buried his face in his mum’s neck._

_“I’m a bad person, mummy,” he whimpered._

_“No you’re not, no you’re not,” she whispered into his hair._

_“I hurt that boy, mummy,” he cried._

_She ran her soft fingers through his hair._

_“You’re not a bad person. You made a bad choice,” she said._

* * *

The door creaks open. The smell of a homemade casserole fills the air. It gives him a headache. Danny sticks his head inside.

“Hey,” Danny says softly, almost empathetically.

He rubs his face as Danny came in, presenting him with the dish. “I made it,” he says softly, “It probably tastes like cack, but you know.”

He can't help but smile. But the cloud in his stomach is too heavy.

“Not hungry,” he replies.

Danny sits by his bedside, setting the dish on his dresser. “Mate you have to eat,” he says, “You haven’t eaten since you got back.”

“No,” he moans and pulled the covers back on.

He hears Danny walk away.

The smell of the casserole mingled with the smell of her perfume.

It lulls him back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

_When he was 14, his life revolved around the beautiful Hannah Clarke._

_“Who you starin’ at, Malik?”_

_He felt his cheeks blush. He watched Hannah open her locked, putting her beautiful chestnut locks behind her ear._

_“Ohh, pretty little Miss Clarke,” Eric cackled._

_He refused to say anything. Hannah’s eyes sparkled under the school’s tungsten lights. He was drunk of infatuation._

_“Ask ‘er out, yeh?” Eric said, elbowing him._

_He scoffed. “Piss off,” he mumbled._

_“If you say so,” Eric said, walking off._

_He spent the entire afternoon daydreaming about Hannah Clarke’s soft chestnut hair and bright green eyes. How he’d love to kiss the freckles across her cheeks._

_The bell rang. School’s out._

_He sat outside the yard, waiting for his dad to pick him up. At the corner of his eye, he saw Hannah Clarke and a friend approaching quickly. His heart beat fast._

_He should say hello._

_He raised his hand to wave, but she didn’t see him. He felt stupid._

_“Did you hear? Zain likes you,” her friend said._

_He felt like he was going to throw up._

_Hannah furrowed her brows. “Who?”_

_“Zain. Zain Malik,” her friend replied._

_He felt his heart sinking._

_“Oh, Zain? That boy? The dark boy?” Hannah said._

_His heart sunk._

_Down._

_Down._

_Down._

_“Yeah,” her friend said._

_“Eww,” Hannah chuckled, “Not him. Ugly Paki.”_

_Her friend laughed. She still didn’t see him behind her._

_His heart might as well fallen out his body and buried itself into the ground._

_That night, he suffered from another bloody knuckle._

_______

_Her name was Rachael. He was sixteen._

_The music pulsated from the speakers. It was giving him a headache. He didn’t want to be the one person to tell them to turn the music down. He gulped another beer._

_“Havin’ a good time mate?” Danny asked, as he slung his arm heavily around him._

_“Sure, yeh,” he replied. He figured another swig of beer would make him feel at ease. He grabbed another bottle and bumped into someone._

_She smelled like cinnamon and vanilla._

_“Hello,” she said._

_“Hi,” he mumbled, suddenly at a loss for words. She must’ve been older than him, loads older. Her figure looked perfect in the dress she wore._

_“I’m Rachael,” she said. “You’re hot.”_

_She was as drunk as he was._

_He let her pull him to the dance floor. He hated the song playing but he let his body go. He grinded himself against his hips and she let him. He kissed her and she kissed back, with gusto. Soon, he was nursing a tent in his pants, and she was pulling him again, up to a bedroom upstairs._

_“You’re so sexy,” she said, as she let him push her onto the bed._

_He felt amazing._

_After, she told him she was 18._

_He said he was 18 too._

_He went home, feeling a buzz running through his veins. He always wanted to feel amazing. As amazing as he just felt._

* * *

 

“Zayn?”

He sees nothing but blurry lines and shapes, and he feels nothing but a throbbing headache on the left side of his head. The smell of her perfume and cold casserole returns to his nose, suddenly making his stomach turn. He feels a weight beside him.

He rubs his eyes, and the image focuses on Louis’ face. He’s  bundled up, the outside temperature still reminiscent in his coat.

“Mm what?” he says.

“We have rehearsals in a few,” Louis says softly, “I called, did you get it?”

He moans and pulls the covers over him. Louis pulls it back.

“I know everything’s shit-“

“You don’t know half of it,” he hisses, and pulls the covers back.

“Zayn please, you need to come,” Louis says. “Consider it?”

He snuggles deeper into the mattress and he wishes Louis would go away. He wants everything to go away. He wants to sleep forever.

He hears Louis sigh. “Danny says you haven’t eaten,” Louis says, “Tell you what. I’ll make you something, and we’ll go to rehearsal, okay?”

He doesn’t say a word.

 

* * *

 

_“Really?”_

_Niall stood by the door, his eyebrows cocked at him._

_“What?” he asked, pulling on a crumpled shirt._

_“Every night, Malik, every night?” Niall said, chuckling._

_He looked down the stairs to make sure the girl found her way out the complex._

_“I can get whoever I want,” he said smirking, giving Niall a slight punch on the shoulder._

_“Let’s not get inflated now,” Niall joked._

_He laughed._

_______

_They always smiled at Harry, always. The screamed the loudest for Harry, always._

_He constantly watches as crowds of girls pursue Harry for a picture, sobbing and crying._

_Harry’s Twitter mentions are filled with “I love you’s”._

_His is a scatter of terrorist jokes and illegal Mexican jokes._

_______

_They always want to know what he’s up to. Always. Like they care._

_But they treat him like shit._

_______

_America hates him. They think he’s going to bomb the place._

_They see him as nothing more than a fading background. It’s Harry and Niall they want.  
______

_He spent months chasing after her, he spent months chasing after Perrie._

_Now she’s his. She’s his._

_She didn’t choose Harry._

_______

_He sick of it._

_He doesn’t log on to Twitter anymore._

______

_He was so lonely. He was so lonely._

_But she was around and she was willing and she told him he was hot and beautiful._

_She told him he was the hottest out of all of them._

_He woke up with texts from Perrie._

_______

_He felt so guilty. Why did he do that to his girl?_

_Why?_

_Boom! A punch. Would the hotel notice?_

_He performed with a cast in Vegas._

_Nobody cared._

_______

_He doesn’t want to leave his house anymore._

_Not ever._

_______

_He hates doing promo. They don’t like him._

_The terrorist jokes continued._

_All those jokes continued._

_He laughed a first. But not anymore._

_It’s not okay to insult Niall._

_Why him?_

_Why?_

_They don’t like him. Why is he there?_

_Why?_

_______

_Everyone’s faces brighten when they see Harry, not him._

_He’s sick._

_Perrie’s gone off somewhere._

_He’s really lonely._

_And she was around and willing._

_His mistake. The biggest mistake he’s made._

* * *

**“Zayn Malik Cheats on Perrie Edwards”**

**“Zayn Malik CHEATING SCANDAL”**

**“Zayn Malik is a SEX PREDATOR”**

The words swirl around again. And again and again.

_“Don’t bother, I’m disgusted with you don’t touch me don’t talk to me, I loved you, you know?”_

_“Don’t talk to me Zayn, don’t.”_

It sounds like an entire army of angry wasps.

_“@zaynmalik you disgusting pig!”_

_“kill yourself @zaynmalik how dare you cheat”_

_“you are a disgusting piece of human being @zaynmalik”_

His head aches. It aches something terrible.

He’s a terrible person. How can he?

Why is he like this?

Why?

Why.

He’s standing up and the weight in his chest is a storm cloud, producing a hurricane. He can’t take it. No he can’t.

Why can’t he stop?

He lifts his fist and pounds hard on his wall.

He screams.

Blood drips.

The swings open. And there’s Louis, standing, appalled. Scared.

He falls to his knees and Louis takes him. He’s crying. Nobody has ever seen him cry. Nobody but his mum.

“Zayn!” Louis says. He takes his hand. Blood drips from his knuckles.

“Why Zayn?” Louis asks, his voice breaking.

He doesn’t answer. He shakes and falls into Louis. Louis grabs a towel and wraps it around his bleeding cuts.

“We need to get this fixed, Zayn,” Louis says, breathless.

“You need to fix me,” Zayn says through his tears. Louis clutches him tighter.

“Why?” Louis asks, holding Zayn’s hand.

“Because I’m a bad person,” Zayn replies.

Louis’ face twists into disbelief. He pulls him closer and kisses his head.

“No Zayn, you aren’t. You made a mistake. You’ve just made a bad choice.”

He lets Louis take him to get it bandaged up. 


End file.
